may flowers
by closingdoors
Summary: AU. Castle and Beckett meet during the bank robbery in Cops And Robbers. After the events of Montgomery's shooting, her own, and breaking up with Josh, will Beckett still learn to let Castle in?
1. Chapter 1

But fuck it.  
>I don't want May flowers.<p>

I only want  
>you.<p>

**- Thinking About The Way You Hold Your Hands Over Flowerbeds, Shinji Moon**

* * *

><p><strong>Prompt: <strong>Castle and Beckett meet during cops and robbers and alexis is only like 4 or 5.

I changed the prompt slightly so that Alexis is seven, instead of four or five. Mostly because I feel like, otherwise, she would've been a screaming, terrified toddler during the hostage situation and wouldn't really understand what's happening. As for fluff, I make no promises. The characters wouldn't exactly be the same we see in season 4 here because of never having met, so…

The prompt was taken from the castlefanficprompts blog, and I own nothing, except for a hefty student loan debt (please allow time between updates, as I move out for uni tomorrow, so this will be taking a backseat on my priorities list.)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

They leave for the scene the moment they get the call from Jenny.

Ryan's a mess, smudging his hand through his hair and making it stand on end as she weaves through New York traffic. Every few seconds he tells her to _drive faster, _and her eyes meet Esposito's worried ones in the rearview mirror.

What if they can't save her?

They're homicide cops. They're not trained to deal with hostage negotiations. She's used to intimidation tactics, bullying, shouting and yelling as she deals with the lowest possible form of humanity, the dredges that shouldn't have escaped the underbelly of the world. She's not used to patience. Bargaining.

Collateral damage.

Her tyres screech when the reach the bank, startling the crowd that have gathered around the bank. Ryan flies from her car and she and Esposito follow close behind, exchanging glances once again as Ryan pushes through the crowd, ducks under the police tape and heads straight for the van that the hostage negotiation team have parked outside the bank.

"Espo," she stops him with a hand on the arm before they can follow Ryan inside.

He shakes his head. "Beckett, don't - "

"What if we _can__'__t _save her, Javi?"

"Don't talk like that," he says. "There's no other option. No matter how long or hard it is, we have to get her back."

Kate retracts her hand on his arm, nodding. They both know, though. That they might not get her back.

That Ryan might not get married in four weeks.

The detective's voice is the first thing she hears when she makes her way into the van. He's yelling, red in the face and toe to toe with the captain of the team. She intercepts immediately, slipping a hand between their chests to push Ryan back slightly.

"Woah, Ryan," she says softly. "Calm down."

The detective laughs bitterly, shaking his head at her. "Calm _down? _I would calm down if this jackass would tell me why the _hell _they're not in there already saving Jenny!"

"Bro," Esposito says, grabbing Ryan's arm and holding him back when he makes an attempt to step towards the captain again.

Ryan shakes him off, glaring at the captain, and Kate steps between them, diverting the captain's attention in the hopes the stressed member of her team won't be kicked off the case.

"Captain, my name is Detective Kate Beckett. We're homicide detectives with the twelfth," she says, holding out a hand.

He accepts it. "Captain Peterson. What's homicide doing in my territory?"

"The fiancée of one of the members of our team, Detective Ryan, is in that building. She was on the phone to him when the robbers took charge of the bank."

"How many of them were there?"

Kate looks back at Ryan, who casts a dark glance to the captain before replying. "Four. All armed. She said they were dressed in doctor's scrubs."

"Alright. Well, thanks for the intel, detectives. We'll do everything we can to get her out."

"Okay, so what's our next move?"

The captain laughs, shaking his head. Behind her, she feels Esposito grab for Ryan again, holding him back and murmuring _leave it, bro. _Part of her doesn't blame him. Most of her just wishes for jurisdiction, for the ability to take over this case. Maybe it wouldn't get them anywhere, but at least she would feel like she would be getting _somewhere _with this, and helping to save Jenny in someway. Sitting back and watching how things play out has never really been her strong point.

"No, there is no next move for you. You want to help your friend? You let me do my job."

Ryan steps forward, anger twisting his features to something ugly again, so she lets it go. Instead, she meets his eyes, shaking her head at him and moving him towards the door. Ryan stares back defiantly for a moment, ready to argue, but then Esposito tugs on his arm, leading him from the van. She follows with a heavy heart.

"Espo, you still have buddies in the ESU?"

Esposito nods.

"Good. I wanna know what they know, and let's get in touch with major crimes, find out if there are any other robberies with similar MOs. The more we know about these guys, the more leverage we have."

With one last sympathetic glance at his partner, Esposito walks away, pressing his phone to his ear.

"Beckett…"

"We'll get her, Ryan. I promise. Okay?"

"How are we supposed to get her when the captain won't even let us help?" Ryan exclaims.

"Look around you, Ryan," she says, sternly this time. "There's cops everywhere. There's a SWAT team already in position. They're not gonna give up, and neither are we."

The words don't seem to ease Ryan, who simply rakes another hand through his hair, clenching his jaw as she stares at the blinded windows of the bank. She follows his gaze, swallowing past the heavy feeling of trepidation in her throat. They will get Jenny back. Just like Esposito said before, they can't afford _not _to.

"Detective Beckett."

She turns to find one of the members of the hostage negotiation team waiting for her.

"Captain Peterson would like a word."

The captain is watching something on the monitors when she steps up into the van. When he hears her footsteps, he sighs.

"Tell me. Do you like the spotlight, detective?"

"Excuse me?"

"I just got off the phone with our robber. He says he'll only talk to, and I quote, the _invincible _cop. The friend of the pretty blonde hostage, who took a bullet at her captain's funeral."

She looks away at the reference, the scar between her breasts burning brightly. It's a constant, dull pain, most days. She's learned how to ignore it, how to move the dark thoughts from her mind during the day - she combats them with a bunch of sleeping pills at night.

"Sir, I have no training in hostage negotiation - "

He pulls a seat out for her. "Well, I don't have time to give you a seminar, but I can teach you a few things. Basically, forget everything you ever learned during your homicide training."

* * *

><p>Later, when their robber is off the phone and Ryan is busy calling Jenny's parents, she leans against the outside of the van, trying to collect herself. It's not working.<p>

"Hey."

She looks up at Esposito. "Any luck?"

"ESU can't get eyes or ears inside. Cameras are disabled and the walls are too thick to drill inside."

"So what if ESU storms the bank?"

"They'll be going in blind."

She returns her gaze to the floor, studying the gravel and trying to get images of Jenny's body - on the floor, shot dead by the robbers - from her mind. They can't do that to Ryan. As his friends, they owe this to him.

"And… in your experience, in this scenario, what are the hostages' chances of survival?"

Esposito hesitates to answer. She looks up at him. He looks away, over at Ryan, who's wiping away his tears while talking to Jenny's mom. She follows his gaze, shaking her head, knowing with absolute certainty that, after this day, nothing will ever be the same again.

* * *

><p>She doesn't know who it is that signals them in morse code, but she's grateful to them when she figures it out. Safety deposit box one twenty. It gives Ryan something to do, some way to feel useful instead of demanding answers from her that she doesn't have, and she sends him and Esposito to the owner of the box happily.<p>

When she enters that bank, dressed as a paramedic, her eyes fall on the patient, Sal, and she finds Jenny kneeling beside him, along with - Richard Castle?

Her lips almost twist into a grin. Of course. _Now _she knows who sent the morse code.

"How's he doin'?" She asks, kneeling besides the journey.

"Not good," Jenny tells her, and she watches from the corner of her eye as her favourite author surreptitiously writes her a note.

"I think the seizure was brought on by stress," he adds, and she takes a moment to _really _look at him, all soft hair and gentle blue eyes. This man risked his life to defend one who couldn't. With Jenny, that doesn't surprise her, the woman has a heart of gold. But a rich playboy philanthropist? _That__'__s _news.

"Hey, Sal, buddy. How you doin'?" She says, shifting her attention to the man laying between them. "Sal, listen to me. I want you to know that there are people out there waiting for you, who won't give up on you."

She hears sweet, gentle Jenny take a sharp breath at her words, and she looks up to meet her eyes, slowly reaching a hand over to squeeze her friend's own. She can feel Richard Castle's inquisitive eyes burning her skin.

"I promise. We'll get you out of here."

There are footsteps then, the click of a gun and she quickly releases Jenny's hand.

"Don't talk about it, be about it."

Kate tears her eyes away from her friend's fiancée's.

"And you. Help her put him on that gurney _now._"

Another one of the robbers, dressed as a doctor, moves forwards and aims her gun at Jenny. Kate tenses, but the robber simply nods to the rest of the crowd, and Jenny, trembling, moves to sit down with the others. She only remembers to look away when Richard Castle begins talking to Sal, hooking his arms underneath him, and she moves to help.

"There you go, buddy," she says, gently moving Sal onto the gurney, making minimal eye contact with her favourite author before he manages to slip the note into her hand. He's smart, she'll give him that.

As she's walking out of the building, she pauses, looking back at the man who's staring at her as though she could possibly save him.

Maybe she can.

* * *

><p>Everything changes when the bomb goes off.<p>

Ryan's first through the door. He doesn't even wait for the SWAT team.

"Jenny!"

No answer.

"Jenny!"

She and Esposito flank him, followed by the SWAT team, whose gear is loud in this unbroken silence. Dust settles on the remains of the bank, swathing them and almost choking her. The thought that Jenny might be - and that Richard Castle too -

"Kevin?"

A desperate sob rips itself from Ryan's throat and he eagerly bursts forward, through the doors that lead him to his fiancée. Kate exchanges a relieved smile with Esposito before following Ryan, who has instantly fallen before Jenny, unclipping her restraints and pulling her into his arms. The scene makes the empty ache in her chest heavy.

Automatically, she moves towards Richard Castle, who she finds cradling a young, redheaded girl in his lap. She assumes she's his daughter. The girl can only be seven or eight at most, and she's still trembling against her father, pale wrists bruised by the restraints, still in distress, even as she watches Kate kneel in front of them slowly while her father whispers reassuring words into her hair.

She frees the writer without a word, who nods at her above his daughter's head, and then she smiles reassuringly at the young girl.

"Hey there. My name is Detective Kate Beckett. You can call me Kate, if you'd like. What's your name?"

The young girl sniffs. "Alexis."

"Alexis. That's a lovely name," she tells her, watching as the young girl gives her an uncertain smile. "Alexis, can I help you out of those?"

The young girl looks up at her father doubtfully, who simply waits for her to make a decision. A pregnant pause is exchanged between them before the young girl nods, holding out her wrists for Beckett.

"You know," she says, freeing Alexis, "I think I saw a lady in the crowd with hair even brighter than yours."

Her blue eyes light up hopefully, even with unshed tears glittering in them.

"My gram?"

"Maybe. Would you like to leave and find out?"

Alexis nods eagerly, taking the hand Kate offers her as Richard Castle stands behind them. She gets the feeling that the man could use a second to shed his false bravado that he's worn in front of his daughter to really process what he's just been through, so while Esposito and the rest of the team help the other hostages, she leads the young girl out of the bank, her father right behind them.

"Gram!" The young girl cries, pointing to an older woman waiting for them.

Kate nods at the officer keeping her away from the scene, and he lets her through. Alexis releases her hand and hurtles towards her grandma, who bends down to catch her, kissing the crown of her granddaughter's head repeatedly and allowing a few tears to escape. Richard Castle passes her, his hand squeezing her elbow as he does and she watches as his mother stands back up to her full height and grips her son.

"Oh, Richard," she says, palming his cheeks. "I thought I'd lost you both."

"You know I'm too pretty to die, mother," he replies, grinning when his daughter laughs.

Satisfied that his mother can look after Alexis, the author looks back over to her, with something so serious and solemn in his eyes that her cheeks flush. He walks towards her, certain and powerful and the blush spreads to her neck.

"Thank you," he says sombrely. "For saving my life."

She smiles. "Don't mention it."

Castle nods, clenching his jaw. "You know, I could've - I could've accepted it, if it had just been me, you know? But if anything had happened to Alexis…"

She doesn't know what to say to that. She doesn't think she'll ever understand that feeling. She doesn't think she wants to.

"Your investigation isn't over, is it?

"What gives you that idea?"

"There's something else here. The robbers were too careful to just blow themselves up. They must be covering for something."

"I can't discuss an ongoing investigation with a civilian, Mr Castle," she teases.

He groans. "Call me Mr Castle again. That was hot."

Kate flushes again, blinking a couple times and feeling downright embarrassed. Honestly, she's acting like a _teenager._

"Tell you what," the writer says, shifting his weight from foot to foot and watching her carefully. "Once your investigation's done, would you like to go out to dinner?"

She startles. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

He smiles self-deprecatingly. "Am I that bad at it?"

"No, no. It's just - you don't even really know me."

"I owe you my life. The least I can do is buy you dinner."

She resists the urge to cartwheel with joy - this is her _favourite writer - _and settles for simply smiling instead.

"Okay," she accepts, biting her lip. "I'll go out on a date with you."

His whole face brightens at the worlds and she feels her heart trip up in its beat. Stupid, ridiculous man, who keeps looking at her like she's the small wonders of earth, like the sun which gives the moon its light, or the moon that gives the sea its tide. Nobody has really looked at her like that since - well, ever.

He gives her his number and she promises to call him, even if she crosses her fingers behind her back as she does. It's just… this has all stemmed from a traumatic event. How does she know that she's really what he wants? And is she ready to just be used, to be another one of his conquests? She's not sure if empty one night stands are particularly beneficial for her mental health right now.

"You know, you're absolutely beautiful," he tells her.

She looks down. "Go back to your daughter, Mr Castle."

"Yes ma'am."

She laughs, watching him go with a smile on her face for a moment, before sighing and turning away, returning back to the dark world his light had guided her from.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>tumblr:<strong> andiloveyoukate**  
>twitter:<strong> _closingdoors


	2. Chapter 2

**may flowers**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

><p>She doesn't call him.<p>

Or, at least, not immediately.

They close the case and save the child and his mother. Relief flows through them all, and Ryan takes the weekend off to spend time with his soon to be wife. They don't let the pair of them go without a real, life-affirming goodbye party, which they leave halfway through anyway. Even captain Gates joins in on the fun.

She gives Esposito a ride home that night, waiting for him to say something.

"That was a close call," he says.

"It was."

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it? About all the things you wished you'd done, if you knew your life was going to end in such an everyday place?"

It feels as though her phone in her jacket pocket is burning.

"Yeah, it does," she agrees softly, pulling up outside his apartment.

"What would you do, Beckett? If you lived every day as though it were your last?"

She looks down, biting her lip. The phone burns brighter and so does the scar on her chest. A lot of things burn, nowadays. Mostly, everything just hurts.

"I don't know," she answers at last, and then looks over at him. "What would you do?"

Esposito wiggles his eyebrows. "Well, tonight I'm gonna call Lanie. We'll see how it goes from there."

She laughs, shaking her head. "Have a good night, Espo."

"You too, Beckett."

Her apartment is cold and empty and lonely when she gets home. The sink is piled high with dishes she's yet to get round to washing, and her trash is overflowing with take out boxes and ramen noodles packaging. She sighs, dumping her keys and bags on the counter and, as usual, skips food. Her body is aching, tired, bones brittle and creaking even as she moves into the bathroom and runs a shower. The warmth feels as though it should massage her tight muscles, but instead she just finds herself growing frustrated when she's unable to relax, hot tears bubbling from her eyes that she can't prevent, and eventually she sits down and lets them pour out, accepting the moment until the water turns cold.

She takes twice the amount of sleeping pills she normally would that night, and ignores the fact that Richard Castle's number is in her phone.

Esposito's words are troubling her, and as she slips into bed and the pills finally begin to take effect, she really does try to think of what she would do. If she lived every day as though it were her last.

Her fingers find the ring hanging on a chain around her neck.

Sighing, she lets her heavy eyelids close, and has nightmares about the moon bleeding.

* * *

><p>It takes her a week to call him.<p>

She almost never does. But then the boys have a ridiculous adventure in Atlantic City and suddenly she finds herself wishing she had someone to tell it to other than her father, someone she doesn't have to give the PG rated version to to save them both from embarrassment. Besides, there's no harm in trying, right?

Settling on her couch with a half-drunk glass of wine that evening, Kate gives herself five pep talks before pressing the call button.

It almost goes to voicemail and she's ready to give up, but then -

"Richard Castle."

"Hi! Uh," she clears her throat, fingers flexing around the glass in her hand, "it's me. Kate Beckett. From - "

"The bank. I remember," he pauses. "I thought you weren't going to call."

She ducks her head in shame. "Yeah, I've been… busy. One of our detectives took some time off so we were a little thin on the ground and - "

"It's okay. You don't have to make excuses."

He doesn't sound angry, and she bites her lower lip, paying close attention to the tone of his voice. Had he been Josh, the excuses would've continued to flow, until they both lulled themselves into a false sense of security that their relationship was in some way healthy and happy because they both had to make excuses sometimes, that there was never really an imbalance of importance between them.

"Sorry," she says again. "I guess I… Really, I thought you might have changed your mind."

"Me? Why would I change my mind?"

She shrugs even though he can't see her.

"I don't know. I guess… I thought the offer was an impulsive one. You know, because I helped save you from the bank. I didn't know if you really meant it."

Why is she telling him this? Shut up, Beckett.

"Of course it was impulsive. Still meant it, though. Nobody else has made Mr Castle sound so hot before."

Surprised, she laughs, taking a sip of her wine. "Is that right, Mr Castle?"

He groans. "Unless you want this phone call to turn into something different real quickly, I'd suggest you stop calling me that."

It almost feels dangerous, this conversation, but she likes how he makes her feel, even through the little amount of time they've actually spent talking to one another. He's… not childish, per se, but free spirited, enthusiastic in some ways that she's not. It's a nice balance. It's nice to break away from the dark, empty corners of her mind and her apartment for this.

"So, you were promising to take me out somewhere real fancy and expensive and devote precious hours of your time to impressing me, Castle," she teases, drinking more wine. Probably a bad idea to keep drinking on the phone to him. She's pretty sure she was already halfway to tipsy when she called.

"Oh, I was, was I?" He asks, laughing. "Name a time and date and I'll arrange something, Kate."

It's the first time he's said her name and she feels a shiver run through her.

"This Friday. I only work until five."

"I'll pick you up at eight. That's a reasonable enough time for make up stuff, right?"

"Are you implying that I need a lot of time and make up to make myself look good, Castle?"

His voice gets low and makes her shiver again. "I'm sure you look good with nothing on."

She clears her throat, taking one last gulp of wine and setting the empty glass on her coffee table. Yep. Definitely dangerous. She loves it.

"What about your daughter, Alexis?" She asks. "I mean, is she okay with - with you seeing me?"

"Oh, well she doesn't know. I don't usually tell her until things look like they're going well."

She nods, forgetting he can't see her, and her accidental silence seems to panic him.

"Not that I don't think this will go well, of course, you are - you seem extraordinary and I really do like you but - "

"Don't worry, Castle. I get it. She's your daughter. You want to protect her."

"Right. Yeah, exactly."

Silence falls between them again, and she makes no attempt to break it, and neither does he. She can hear him breathing. She thinks that maybe it should be awkward, and then wonders why it isn't.

"So, given that your friend was in that bank, I assume you don't normally work hostage situations."

"Isn't the getting to know each other step supposed to happen on the date?"

"Well, just think, when we do go, we can get to know each other even better," he sing-songs, and she smiles fondly.

"No," she answers his first question. "I don't normally work hostage situations."

"Let me guess. Homicide?"

"How did you know?" She asks, surprised.

"You're so serious, for the most part. Only someone who tries to give the dead a voice can be as serious as you are."

"I… Thank you?"

"It was a compliment."

She grins then. "But you're not exactly serious yourself, Castle. And your books are dedicated to giving the dead a voice."

"I knew it! You are a fan!"

Kate blushes. "No," she retorts too quickly. "I've just heard of your books, that's all. Maybe I've read one."

"Or two. Or three. Or maybe twenty two best sellers?"

She rolls her eyes. "Okay. So maybe I am a fan. It's purely coincidental and not a big deal."

He gasps theatrically. "Did you stage the hostage situation just so that you could go on a date with your number one author, Kate?"

"You caught me," she deadpans. "This was my evil, evil plan all from the very beginning."

"But you're too pretty to be a serial stalker."

"I model to pay the bills."

He laughs at that and she finds herself laughing along too, almost feeling blessed for being able to go so long without thinking about the darker fringes of her life. He distracts her. It's a good distraction, she thinks.

"Oh, wait, one second Kate," he says, and then she hears muffled voices for a second before he returns. "Ah, that's Alexis. She just got herself out of the bath and wants me to read her a bedtime story. Sorry."

Her heart seizes at the idea of him being such a wonderful, doting dad. It's what's making this whole situation less surreal, she thinks, the fact that he's so different to how she's always pictured him, to how page six has made him out to be. He's… a genuinely caring man. And he's actually interested in her and not getting into her pants. Though she supposes he wouldn't mind the latter.

"That's fine. I'll see you Friday, Castle. I'll text you my address," she says.

"Until Friday, Kate."

She grins to herself. She's going on a date with Richard Castle.

Shaking her head, she deposits the glass on her kitchen counter, adding to the small amount of mess that's began to accumulate there after having cleaned the last pile two days ago.

The scars along her side ache and tug and burn when she tries to sleep, but she's out of sleeping pills, and she throws the empty bottle to her floor in frustration.

At four in the morning she finally gets to sleep, and has nightmares about her skin turning to blisters.

* * *

><p>"So," Lanie says on Thursday, stripping off her gloves and tossing them in the bin, "wine and junk food night tomorrow?"<p>

Kate stuffs her hands in her pockets, looking down at the dead body of their latest victim, Debra Mills, laying on Lanie's morgue table between them. She's actually been keeping the news of Castle to herself, only because she thinks it feels a little more real that way. She supposes Lanie was always going to find out anyway.

"Actually, I have plans tomorrow night."

"Oh really?"

She doesn't miss the interest in her best friend's voice. It makes her lips twist up into a smirk.

"I have a date."

"What?!" Lanie cries, rounding the table to pull Kate away from the dead body and forcing her to meet her eyes. "You're telling me that you, Kate Beckett, are voluntarily going on a date that I didn't set you up on?"

Kate laughs. "God, Lanie, you make it sounds like I don't have a life."

"That's because you don't," Lanie responds. "Now, tell me everything. Who is he? How'd you meet him?"

"Well," Kate says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I met him at the bank. When Jenny was in there. He was one of the hostages."

Her friend frowns. "One of the hostages?"

"Mm-hm," she replies nonchalantly. "Actually, I think you might know him. Richard Castle."

If she were living in a cartoon world, Kate's sure that in that moment Lanie's jaw would've hit the floor. At the look on her friend's face, she has to press her lips together and concentrate on not laughing. Really hard.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm not."

"You actually have a date with Richard Castle, playboy millionaire?"

Kate shifts uncomfortably. "I'm not sure that I'd call him a playboy. He's actually a really sweet guy."

Her friend shakes her head. "I cannot believe you would keep this from me. You land a millionaire that you've had a crush on for years and it just so happens to slip your mind that thats something most normal people would tell their friends?"

"I guess it just seemed… like a nice secret. Besides, I don't know that it'll work out," Kate says, shrugging. "I mean, he has a daughter. What kind of role would I have there? She doesn't even know we're going out on a date. What about my job? I don't know if he'll always be understanding of the fact that sometimes I may have to cancel, or that there are things I'm not willing to talk to him about. And what happens when the effect of trauma wears off? Will he stop and realise that his impulsive move wasn't one he actually wanted to take?"

"Okay, I'm going to stop you there before you melt into full-scale panic mode," Lanie says, placing her hands on Kate's arms. "You are a gorgeous, intelligent, funny woman, and he would be crazy not to want you. Trauma or no trauma. As for the little girl, well, I guess that's something you'll figure as you go along."

Kate releases a slow, deep breath.

"Are you sure?"

"Girl, I'mma smack you. I don't say this stuff just for the Hell of it," she says, nudging Kate. "Really. I know things with Josh ended badly, and that you're wary of dating, but, like you said, he's a sweet guy. It must be worth a shot."

"Yeah," she murmurs, ducking her head when she feels an affectionate smile for the man rising to her lips. "Must be."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>tumblr: <strong>andiloveyoukate**  
>twitter: <strong>_closingdoors


	3. Chapter 3

**may flowers**

_Thank you for your words on this fic of mine so far.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<br>**

That Friday afternoon, she keeps her eyes on the clock, waiting for five to roll around.

"What's up, Beckett? Excited for your date?" Ryan teases, nudging Esposito.

"It's not every day you land a millionaire," Esposito adds, grinning mischievously.

Kate glares at them. "Lanie told you?"

Ryan looks completely innocent, eyes wide. She turns her steely gaze to his partner, who has the good grace to at least look a little uncomfortable, and shrugs and mutters while he looks back down at his paperwork, pretending to frown at the page. She sighs, sitting back in her chair. She had known this would happen anyway.

"Okay, yes, it's true. I'm going on a date with Richard Castle," she says, the words feeling foreign on her tongue. "But, unless you want me to tell Jenny and Lanie about the dancer in Atlantic City, I'd suggest you keep your mouths shut."

The ribbing from them ends then, and she wears a smug, gloating smile for the rest of the afternoon. Impatience gets the better of her when she has nothing to do, and she practically offers to make coffee for everyone in the precinct - even though the stuff they have is gross - and completes all of her paperwork before four. She thinks even maybe Captain Gates grows slightly suspicious of her actions.

When five finally does eventually come, she's buttoning up her coat and shouldering her bag before the boys can even blink, despite her shaking hands.

Okay. Maybe she's a little more nervous than excited.

She tries to relax in the bath, keeping an eye on the time to make sure that she doesn't fall to sleep. She's too worked up to relax though, and ends up getting out when the water's still warm.

Her wardrobe feels empty when she sifts through it, searching for the perfect dress. What kind of restaurant is he going to take her out to? Will he really go for expensive and fancy? Or will he know that kind of thing is uncomfortable for her? Worrying her lower lip with her teeth, she finally settles on a black lacy dress that dips low enough on her chest to be cheeky, but the loose flowing skirt settles just below her mid-thigh, modest enough. Plus, she knows her eyes look great in this one.

Her hands tremble as she applies her make up, not going overboard, but smiling at herself in the mirror when her eyes look just the right amount of smoky to be dangerous. She runs her hands through her hair, uncertain, before finally opting to pull it up into a braided bun. It's difficult with her hands shaking, strands of her hair slipping from her fingers occasionally, but she eventually manages it. For good measure, she rummages through her cupboards for the over the counter anxiety pills she'd bought a few weeks back, swallowing a few dry and shaking her head when she realises how much of a walking pharmacy she's become.

She's fine.

But she makes sure that the window shutters that reveal her mom's murderboard are firmly shut.

* * *

><p>The knock on her door comes ten minutes early and she laughs, slipping her heels on and opening the door to find Castle grinning sheepishly at her behind a bouquet of flowers. He looks good.<p>

"Hey."

"You're early."

"A queen is never early. Everyone else is simply late," he says nonchalantly, the crinkles around his eyes appearing when she laughs.

"Did you just adapt a line from The Princess Diaries?"

"What can I say, I have a seven year old daughter who loves the movie."

"Sure, Castle, use that excuse."

He doesn't even look embarrassed. Simply holds the bouquet out to her. "These are for you."

"Thank you. They're beautiful," she says, smiling, and thumbing a petal. "Sunflowers?"

"Sunflowers signify warmth and happiness," he tells her, no doubt reciting lines that the florist had fed him. "They made me think of you."

She blushes, despite how much she would never associate herself with warmth of happiness. That sinking feeling gnaws away at her stomach - he thinks she's someone she's not. Maybe she was that person once. But after the shooting at Montgomery's funeral…

"Too much?"

Kate startles, looking up at Castle, who watches her with concern. Silent. She'd been silent for too long.

"No. No, they're perfect. Thank you. I'll go put them in some water."

Without invitation, Castle follows her into her apartment, exploring her living room. He stares at the painting of the woman in a war zone for too long, eyes flickering back to her with interest when she places the flowers in a vase.

"You have an interesting taste," he says, running his hands over an ornament she'd bought in Moscow.

"Interesting is one way to put it."

"No, it's nice. Different."

Kate shrugs, glancing around her apartment, before grabbing her purse.

"You're not taking a jacket?"

"If I get cold, I'll just use yours," she says, smirking.

She doesn't miss his own smile.

"By the way," he says, placing a hand on the small of her back as they walk to the elevator, making her hold her breath, "you look beautiful tonight, Kate."

She toys with her clutch. "You're not so bad yourself, Castle," she returns shyly.

His car is neither overstated nor under. She's surprised, thinking that a millionaire like him would take a town car, perhaps even a limo that she's seen in page six countless times before. At her confused look, he simple wiggles his eyebrows at her, somehow still charming, and she slips into the car, a content silence falling between the two of them as he drives. She pretends not to catch the way his eyes look over at her - the way he looks at her is… dangerous.

They eventually pull up at a restaurant that she's only heard of through Lanie before, who'd once wanted to get in there when it first opened. Admittedly, she'd always wanted to come too. A gorgeous seafood restaurant that, apparently, sold beautiful wine.

Castle practically runs around the other side of the car when they park, holding open her door and offering her a hand before she can blink. In spite of herself, Kate finds herself smiling fondly and accepting the hand. When she climbs from the car, she realises that she's almost eye height with him in heels. Perfect.

"Okay?" He asks, close enough for the word to go right through her.

She releases her hold on his hand. "Perfect. I've always wanted to come here."

"I hear it's wonderful."

She shoots him a look as they walk inside, waiting until he's booked them in to reply.

"You expect me to believe that Richard Castle, millionaire playboy, has never taken a woman here before?"

He shakes his head, slow and serious. "I've never been here before."

They're shown to their table, and Kate looks round in amazement. The place has Frank Sinatra playing softly, following a warm brown and cream colour scheme, the candles between them alight and smelling like… is that jasmine?

"This place is amazing," she says, fingers tracing the leather jacket of the menu. "Really."

"I'm glad you like it," is all he says.

Her eyes almost bug out of her skull when she notices the price of the food. And that's just for the starters. Her savings are really gonna take a hit. She supposes going on a date with a millionaire never would've come cheaply.

"Don't worry about price," he says, as though he's read her mind. "Not that I'm saying you couldn't afford it. But, I'll pay."

"No, Castle, we can split -"

"Aw, c'mon Kate. Allow me my moment of chivalry," he says, pretending to puff his chest out.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous."

"Funny, that's what my daughter says too."

They order their food happily, along with their wine for the evening. She lets him decide on that, since he's paying, and he doesn't disappoint. The moment she takes a sip she finds herself humming. It's good stuff.

Richard Castle bought her good wine.

"So, tell me, Kate. Why homicide?"

She shrugs. "Why do you write mystery books?"

"Touché."

Kate foolishly thinks that, maybe, he's let it go, that she's outwitted him and they can back to some form of date talk that doesn't revolve around the dark patches of her life. She doesn't quite think she wants him to ever see those.

Ever? So she's not thinking long term?

She fights the urge to frown. Why would she? This is Richard Castle. She's just a cop. It's a wonder that she's even here to begin with and, she knows, that if she invites him back to her place tonight, she'll only wake up to an empty bed in the morning. She's not stupid, and she's not disillusioned to what this misguided date of his is, some chivalrous way of thanking her for inadvertently saving his life in the bank robbery. Richard Castle doesn't do long term. She's read enough pages on page six to know that.

What would long term with Richard Castle mean, anyway? How would it work? He has a _daughter_, a young girl with hair like fire and maturity beyond her years. That little girl still has innocence about her, despite her blatant maturity. And how could Kate ever bring herself to get close to this beautiful man, to his innocent daughter, knowing that she could destroy them both?

It wouldn't be fair on them.

"I've no doubt you're smart. I saw all of those books on your shelf at your apartment. Hemingway, Dickens, Bukowski. You're well read," he says, sipping his wine. "But a homicide cop. It just doesn't… fit."

She shrugs. "Then what does?"

"Hmm… well, you're stunning, and intelligent. And bossy. I've seen the way you order men around," he pauses to wiggle his eyebrows at her then, and she rolls her eyes. "A CEO? Lawyer? Those options… sociably acceptable options. They fit a little better."

A lawyer.

Kate drops her eyes to her wine, picking absently at the tablecloth with trembling fingers.

"I'm sorry," he says. "We don't have to talk about it."

"Thanks," she croaks hoarsely, taking a gulp of wine.

Their starters come then and diffuse the tension. She's never been so relieved to see food in her entire life. In fact, she thinks maybe she's a little too eager, because their waiter scurries away almost instantly. Castle laughs at that.

"So how's your friend? Jenny, I believe her name is?" He asks between bites of his meal.

Kate hums around her first bite. Holy crap, the stuff is delicious.

"She's doing well. Jenny's the fiancée of a member of my team, actually. Detective Ryan. They're getting married in three weeks."

"Well, tell them I wish them well. If you want," he adds. "Marriage isn't for everyone."

"You were married twice."

"Those were dark, dark times indeed," he says, so seriously she can't help but roll her eyes. "What about you, detective? Ever married?"

"Nope," she replies easily, finishing her starter. "I'm more of a one and done kind of girl."

The way he's watching her changes then. Something soft and understanding in his blue eyes. It makes her cheeks flush so she looks down at her wine again, fingers twisting around the stem of the glass. What is it about this man that makes her feel so transparent? She's not too sure if it's an entirely comfortable feeling. It's unfamiliar, and new, almost unsettling. Yet, she doesn't really want him to stop looking at her that way.

"You're a romantic," he says, and she nods.

The waiter returns then, eyeing her a little suspiciously, much to Castle's amusement. He collects their plates, refills their wine, and serves their main course a few minutes later. The scent of the candles still hangs around them.

"What about Alexis?" Kate asks, twirling spaghetti around her fork. "It must've been traumatic for her."

Castle purses his lips. "She's a very mature child."

"Shocking, given you're her father," she replies, laughing when he looks disgruntled. "But really. That kind of thing must leave it's mark."

"I suppose it must do. But she's always been much more serious and withdrawn than I am. She'll talk to me about it when she's ready."

Kate nods, accepting the answer, thinking back to the young redheaded girl who'd trembled against her father when they'd stormed the bank. Had the maturity to be wary of Kate. She wonders if those pale wrists of hers are still bruised.

"And you, Castle?"

"What about me?"

"How are you? After everything that happened in the bank."

Castle's eyebrows stitch together, and he makes himself busy by taking too large a bite, attempting to distract her with comedy.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?"

"Well, it was a traumatic event. You're allowed to be affected by it," she comments, and her scars burn.

"Nothing but inspiration up in here," he says too quickly, tapping against the side of his forehead. "Expect my new book to be all about bank hostages and beautiful police detectives."

She lets the subject drop, sensing she's not going to get any truths out of him. Not that she supposes he owes them to her. She's as much a stranger to him as he is to her, and they're both hiding the dark spots from each other. Somehow, she thinks her darker spots are vaster than his own, much more terrifying and lonely.

"So, any interesting cases recently, detective?" he asks as they finish their mains.

"Actually, we had one that prompted the boys to go to Atlantic City recently," she tells him, sipping her wine.

His eyes light up. "Ooh. Atlantic City. Were there strippers?"

She rolls her eyes, groaning. "How did I know you were gonna ask that?"

"I'm just trying to gather all of the vital information about the investigation," he responds innocently, face neutral. "I don't want to miss anything."

"Well, I'll have you know, Castle, that there weren't strippers. There may have been at the impromptu bachelor's party Esposito arrange for Ryan after the killer was caught, though."

Their desserts arrive, and he laughs when she grins at the size of the chocolate gateau she's served. He opted for something less sickly, but the dessert waffles he's been served with ice cream and fruit catches her eyes nonetheless.

"I have no idea where you put it all," he says, laughing, as she brazenly reaches forward to steal part of his waffle. "You eat everything."

Kate grins, taking a bite of her dessert and sliding the fork between a lips for just a little longer than necessary. Castle groans.

"Do you have any idea what kind of effect you have on men?" he asks her brazenly.

She drips sugar into her voice, brushing her foot against the inside of his calf. His eyes lock on hers.

"I think I have some idea."

They finish soon after that, and when they leave the restaurant and begin walking to his car, she regrets not bringing a jacket immediately. Castle drapes his coat around her shoulders though, and she smiles into the soft, thousand dollar fabric that dwarves her, opting to say nothing when he uses it as an excuse to keep his arm around her shoulders. Even drifts closer to his side a little, drunk on the surreality of the moment.

"I'll walk you up," he says, when they park outside her building.

She tries to tell her beating heart to stop going so fast.

"I had a really nice time tonight, Castle," she tells him softly as they ride the elevator up to her floor. A weary looking older man steps onto the elevator with them the floor before hers. She lets her hand brush Castle's.

"Me too, Kate," he murmurs.

When they reach her door, she shrugs off his jacket, feeling the cold instantly even though they're inside. He accepts it slowly, something cautious in his movements.

"Look, Castle…" she starts, fiddling with her keys. "I haven't done this - dating - in a while. Things got kinda messy with my ex and, well, with some pretty messed up things that have happened recently, I kinda decided that I was going to stay away from dating for a while and just look out for myself, you know?"

Castle nods slowly. "Kate, I was telling the truth when I told you I hadn't been to that restaurant before."

She smiles. "Well. Now you have."

He tilts his head. "No. You don't understand what I'm saying."

She raises her eyebrows.

"I know you say you're not a fan, but you've read about me. I can tell. You've read all the kinds of dates I go on for publicity, the ones with blonde models and limos and whatever else it is my publicist thinks will sell."

She ducks her head. "Well, it's not like have anything else to base my knowledge on," she defends.

He sighs, pushing a hand through his hair nervously. He's looking at her like she's everything again.

"Kate, we didn't travel by limo because I guessed that wasn't your thing. I took you to a restaurant that I'd never been to before because you're special. I didn't try to impress you with lame pick up lines and name dropping. Because you're real, Kate. I… I really like you. I do. And I get it, if you want to believe the papers instead of me. But I'd like to do this again."

Her eyes flick up to his. "You would?"

"Of course. I want to get to know you, Kate. And not just because you saved my life. God, do you know the last time a woman asked if my daughter would be okay with me going on a date? Even her own mother has less regard for her than that."

She blushes. "I was just trying to be a good person."

"And you are."

She bites her lip, fighting the urge to frown. This is going differently to how she expected. She thought she was just going to be one of his conquests, and as much as that probably wasn't healthy for her, she wasn't exactly opposed to the idea. But now… Richard Castle wants to take her on a second date. He hasn't even attempted to get into her pants.

Her heart flutters.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. I'll go on a second date with you."

She's surprised he doesn't cartwheel, his face breaks out into such light.

"Next weekend?"

She laughs. "We haven't even finished this date and you're trying to arrange the next one?"

"Are you complaining?"

She smiles wryly. "Saturday. I have next Saturday off."

He sticks his hand out between them, bowing slightly. "Until Saturday, detective."

Kate rolls her eyes, slipping her hand into his and then tugging him closer, until she can kiss his cheek. She feels the surprise ricochet through him, his hand gripping hers tightly until she leans back and lets go.

"Goodnight, Castle."

"Goodnight, Kate," he says, all low and smooth and making her think about dragging him inside so he can say good morning, too.

As usual, her apartment is quiet and dark, and she doesn't hesitate to strip off on her way to her bedroom, bypassing the empty pill bottle on the floor and falling into bed in her underwear.

That night she has nightmares about little girls with blood the same colour as their hair.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>twitter: <strong>_closingdoors**  
>tumblr: <strong>andiloveyoukate


	4. Chapter 4

**may flowers**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

* * *

><p>The next few days pass pretty normally. Ryan and Esposito tease her about her date the next day, and wear matching grins when they notice her blushing and trying her hardest to intimidate them with a glare. Eventually, she wins and they go scampering off to their desks, chastened by her look.<p>

They investigate the murder of a young man, Jay Brooks, for the next few days. It's a relatively simple, run of the mill murder, involving a mistress and a jealous wife. The paperwork is mundane, and she finds herself counting down the days to Saturday. Which is just ridiculous. One date and she's already pining to see him again?

Her phone buzzes. Castle.

_Hypothetically, how would someone break out of holding?_

_Why, are you planning on breaking out?_

She returns to her paperwork, running a hand through her hair.

_Maybe in the future. For now, it's for writing. What use is there to dating a cop if I can't ask her important questions to save myself from googling illegal activity?_

He says it so casually. Dating.

Holy crap. She's dating _Richard Castle._

Kate shakes her head, focusing on the text.

_You can't break out of holding. That's kind of the point._

_Oh, come on, your faith in the budget of the New York police department can't be *that* high._

_Well, the moment someone breaks out, I'll be sure to let you know how they did it. Not that it will ever happen. Because it's impossible._

_Spoilsport._

Kate grins, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

She's dating Richard Castle.

* * *

><p>"So," Lanie says, when she visits the morgue at lunch the next day. "We haven't had a chance to talk about your date with Richard Castle."<p>

Three days have passed since the date, and she still feels pleasantly warm all over as a result of it, still feeling that shiver, a thrill, pass through her when he looks at her like she's everything. She's dating Richard Castle, author of her favourite books, and he's so sweet and gentle and caring in real life. Everything that she needs right now.

Kate lifts herself up onto one of the tables, swinging her legs and pursing her lips.

"No, we haven't."

Lanie glares. "Give me something better than that to go on."

Laughing, Kate curls her fingers around the edges of the table, the metal cool under her hands. It's no secret to her that Lanie will want every last detail. More than enough times, Lanie's professed her admiration for the man, because of the amount of detail he puts into the dead. Not every author takes the time to figure out the realistic biology of how the body works post morterm, she'd said, the man has skill.

"It was lovely, Lanie. He was… funny, and sweet. He took me to this amazing seafood restaurant - you know the one you've always wanted to go to?"

Lanie's eyes light up. "Go on."

"The food was so good, and I thought it would be awkward but," Kate shrugs, "the conversation just flowed pretty easily, I guess."

Lanie moves to stand in front of Kate, raising her eyebrows. Oh no. She knows that look. That's the look that means they're about to talk about sex. Wow, jeez, sex with Richard Castle. That thought sounds strange, even if she has worn his jacket when it was cold, and ran her foot up his leg when they had dessert.

"And after the date?"

"Nothing happened, Lanie," she tells her sternly, watching as her friend huffs. "But we did arrange to go out again on Saturday."

Lanie shrieks, wrapping Kate up in a hug, almost pulling her from the table. She finds herself laughing, arms awkwardly taut by her sides as her friend jumps up and down. She waits it out.

"You're serious?" Lanie says, pulling away at last. "You're actually dating this guy?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am," Kate confirms, grinning.

"Oh, Kate. He's going to be so good for you. I can just tell."

Kate ducks her head, allowing her hair to blanket her expression.

"I hope so."

* * *

><p>The next day, the sniper case arrives.<p>

She's feeling good that day. She teases Castle over the phone while she's getting ready about the fact that Alexis took it upon herself to give him a Disney princess inspired makeover, and tells him he's finally become the queen he told her he was on their first date. She has to hang up pretty quickly when her PT instructor calls, and she feels guilt niggling away at the back of her mind - she should tell Castle, she knows. Warn him that she's damaged, not whole. That it takes sleeping pills to knock her out at night and she's been having nightmares every night for almost five months now. Instead, she tells him that the precinct's calling her, and smiles when he tells her he's going to plan their date for Saturday.

And then.

Her scar burns. It has before. Sometimes, especially the one on her side, tugs when she's at crime scenes, or going about daily life. But this is different. This is a bone-aching, whole body feeling, as she studies the young woman sniped to death on the sidewalk.

Didn't even feel a thing. Couldn't hold on long enough to watch the lights go out.

Kate closes her eyes, trying to force away the images of her own shooting. There were no warning signs. One moment, she was giving her speech, and the next thing she knows it hurt everywhere and she couldn't move or breathe and everyone was screaming, the sky above her such a violently bright shade of blue, before she succumbed to the heavy pressure on her eyelids and felt the darkness envelop her.

Everything is a struggle that day. It's hard, and it hurts, and she knows she has to keep her focus. But she can't. There are flashes before her eyes. Blood. Screaming.

She goes home and studies her body in the mirror. It feels grotesque, foreign, as she trails her fingers along her sides, tracing every bump and ridge of her surgical scars. They're not as violent and raw as the one between her breasts, have practically faded, but she knows that they're there, a line running along the dip of her waist and marring her forever. She turns, fingers tracing over her skin, finding the rough, healing skin between her breasts, a contradiction if there ever was one. She tilts her head, trying to think of how she could've possibly survived this. A bullet entered her body here. It tore her insides, ripped her apart.

She hasn't exactly been the same since.

Kate shivers, fingers curling around the bullet scar, trying to make sense of the fact that this person in the mirror is her. It doesn't feel like it. It doesn't feel like her at all.

Beside her, her phone buzzes.

_Saturday daytime good for you?_

Castle.

She frowns, locking her phone without texting him back.

This isn't something she wants him to see. Maybe it had been wrong to agree to a second date.

* * *

><p>She gets three more texts from him that day.<p>

_Coming in, coming in: Saturday daytime?_

_This just in: Bestselling author has nothing else to do with his time but text homicide detective who seems to be choosing to ignore him._

_Are you okay?_

* * *

><p>The grass is hard yet soft against her back.<p>

Beckett yells, screams and blood playing before her eyes. Darting forward, she closes her blinds with a sharp snap. The alcohol and mix of pills she took earlier are beginning to take effect. She isn't alert enough. They're coming.

Who?

Someone. Someone's coming.

Bang.

She yells again, lungs vacant of oxygen as she falls to the floor, cutting herself on the shards of glass that litter the wood. Fuck. What is happening? What's going on?

Blue. Blue sky. Dying.

All alone.

She grabs her gun.

She's not safe.

Kate crawls into the smallest space between her couch and a table making herself as small as possible while she maintains a heavy grip on her gun. No. No. She's safe. She has to be safe. They can't kill her today.

She's close. With her mom's case. She's close. She can't -

Her whole body seizes up and she yelps when a sound echoes on the table beside her. Startling, Kate's head snaps up to see it's just her phone ringing. She grabs the phone with shaky hands, ignoring the blood running down her arm, staring at the caller ID. Castle.

She lets it go to voicemail.

Soon enough, the phone chimes with a notification for a voicemail. Pressing a hand to her chest, she notes how her heart is beginning to slow back to a normal rate, and she blinks a couple times, drinking in the room around her.

She's safe. It was just a panic attack.

Setting her gun down beside her, double checking the safety is on, she stares at the opposite side of the room as she listens to Castle's message.

_Hey, Kate. It's me. Look, uh… I get it, if you're having second thoughts. Just, let me know if you are, okay? I just… I keep getting this idea that you're in a ditch dying somewhere. I know. It's ridiculous. Writer's imagination. Just…. call me back soon?_

Kate sighs, resting her cheek on her knee, and pressing repeat. Letting his words drag her back into reality.

That night, she doesn't sleep.

* * *

><p>Something inside her changes, after the sniper case. They solve it, after she bares her ugly scars to the sniper and Esposito kills him, dead. Right in front of her. No time to prepare for the life to drain from him.<p>

Yet something about her just feels different. She can't tell if it's good or bad. She hopes it's not bad.

She can't handle any more bad business in her life.

When she steps off of the elevator that evening, she almost drops her keys in shock. Sitting in front of her door, asleep, is Richard Castle.

The man just does not let up.

Kate crouches down beside him, uncertain how to wake him. She settles with placing a cautious hand on his shoulder and shakes him gently, murmuring his name. A few seconds pass before he stirs, his eyelids fluttering again before his eyes focus on her.

"Now there's a sight I could wake up to everyday," he says, before his eyes widen and he registers where he is. "Kate?"

"You fell asleep in front of my door."

"That explains why my neck hurts like Hell," he says, rolling his neck and shoulders slightly before standing up, wincing a little. "What time is it?"

"Just a little after seven. Shouldn't you be looking after Alexis?"

"Her mother, Meredith, came by this morning and claimed she was going to look after her for the weekend," he explains. "I wouldn't be surprised if I get a call with her changing her mind."

Kate opens the door to her apartment and hesitates slightly, before sighing and stepping in and indicating for him to follow. He does so without question, watching her face carefully, and for once she wishes he wouldn't. She's ready to break, and can't handle the way his gaze burns through her skin.

"That must be hard. For Alexis," she says, closing the door.

But Castle's stopped paying attention, instead is inspecting the pile of dishes that have accumulated in her sink again. A pile of clothes sit beside the kitchen table, haphazard and unwashed. She's been meaning to get around to those. Then he steps further into her front room, towards the couches, and for once she resents how inquisitive, how curious this man is by nature. These are the deep, dark corners of her for only her to see.

His face goes from interested to a deep set anger when he notices the shards of glass spilled across the floor.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting guests."

He doesn't turn towards her.

"I thought you were in danger. Or hurt, somewhere."

She swallows hard, setting her keys on the counter. Takes a step forward, and the sound echoes between them.

"I'm fine, Castle. It's just been a busy few days. That's what my job is like."

"Too busy to send a text?" He asks, turning towards her, and for the first time she thinks she could compare his eyes to ice. "To call me back? Let me know you were okay, at least?"

Taking a deep breath, she moves forward, closer to him, but he only takes a step back.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I should've - had the courtesy to text you, at least. I know that."

The words sound insincere when they fall from her lips and she grits her teeth, rubbing a hand across her face.

"Castle, I'm not - I'm not really in a good place right now. I know you think I'm this hero cop or something, but that's not… that's not me. Okay? I'm not a hero. I never will be. Please don't try and turn me into one."

A maelstrom of emotions thunder across his face then and he takes a few steps forwards, using his height over her to intimidate her, frighten her. She almost thinks she feels tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Fuck, she's a mess.

"When are you going to get that this isn't about the bank? This is about you. From the moment I saw you, braving to walk into a hostage situation, unarmed, all for the sake of your friend and a handful of people you've never met - from that moment. I knew I needed to know everything about you. You were so brave, so compassionate, handled the situation with my daughter so effortlessly. And then you act like it's nothing? How could I not fall for you?"

Her lips part, but nothing comes out. His chest heaves with exertion, staring at her helplessly, but it seems that he's not done yet.

"You have secrets, Kate, I get it. You hardly know me. I don't expect you to open up to me yet, the same way I won't to you," he says, softer this time, approaching her. "But I want to get to know you. I want there to be a day where you can open up to me."

He moves forward again, until he's close enough to touch. She remains completely still, watching him, shivering.

"You're intelligent. You're beautiful. You're so serious. You deal with death everyday. Yet you flirt and joke with me as though there's no such thing. How could I resist?"

Castle reaches out, taking her hand in his. His palms are smooth, gentle against her skin, surprisingly so for a man, but she supposes it's due to days of writing the lives of others instead of really living his own. They dwarf hers though, his tanned skin making her own look a sickly pale, the bones of her wrists jutting out a little too harshly, reedy. Her fingers flex against his, weak, more of a flutter, and watches as her skin plays over the blue and green colours of her veins.

"When was the last time you ate?"

She wraps her fingers around his with a little more pressure. She is strong. She's not weak, or vulnerable, or dainty. She's not.

"Yesterday. I was gonna order some Thai tonight."

Kate watches as Castle shakes his head in disapproval.

"I'm a very difficult person to get along with, Castle," she tells him softly. "I'm not good at letting people in.

"I can tell," he replies, and she huffs.

"But I… want to get to know you, too," she tells him, peering up at him. "Just be patient with me. Please?"

His hand moves against hers. Their palms kiss.

"For you, Kate," he says, "I can do that."

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**may flowers**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

* * *

><p>Kate yawns, stretching in her bed as the morning sun caresses her cheeks. She cracks her eyes open slightly, watching the way the early orange light slates against the colour of her comforter, makes shadows play on the walls. The shadows remind her of her recent nightmare - the ones that curled phantom hands around her shoulders, whispered in a language she didn't understand against the shell of her ear. Sighing, she drags her hand across her heavy eyelids, attempting to banish the images from her mind. Dwelling on the nightmares only makes them worse. They're there, and she knows to expect them every night. She'd just rather have the day to think clearly, at least.<p>

The shower head spurts with water suddenly when she steps in a few minutes later. The sudden noise startles her and she jerks back into the shower door, yelping when she knocks a shampoo bottle over and it lands on her feet. Stupid - God, she's so _stupid._

Burying her face in her hands, Kate lowers herself to the shower floor on trembling knees. The spray turns too hot, harsh and abrasive against her skin, and peeking through the gaps between her fingers she watches and watches until her skin grows red. Almost like the blood staining her uniform after she'd been shot. Her father had sent for it to be meticulously dry cleaned, and her Aunt Theresa had sewn the hole ripped open by the bullet. But the mental damage was real, and ached, and although, when she left her father's cabin weeks too early, she'd told him she'd be fine, the first thing she had done was throw the uniform in the trash.

Kate hides her face in her knees then, blood singing as her skin burns. The tears are hot and real and fast and she can't stop them, so she lets her shoulders heave, and she claws against the shower floor when she forgets to breathe, and she closes her eyes and thinks of happier things every time a low, pained sob rips itself from her mouth.

She's glad the water is loud, and that the neighbours won't hear.

Most importantly, she's just glad she's alone.

* * *

><p>She's watching the daylight sliver across her ceiling when there's a knock on the door. Kate frowns to herself, checking her watch to find it's only midday. Time's passing slowly today, it seems.<p>

There's a louder knock at the door and she groans, dragging herself up from the couch. She hasn't invited anyone over, and she's pretty sure she wasn't meant to meet up with her dad for lunch. Unless she forgot.

Opening the door, her jaw drops when she finds Castle standing in her hallway, smiling happily, holding a basket that looks ridiculously too much like a picnic one.

"Castle?" She says, eyes fixating on the basket. "What're you doing here?"

"Well, I do believe that you agreed to a second date today," he tells her, holding up the basket. "I figured it's too cold outside for a picnic, but we could have one inside."

Her face floods with heat instantly, looking from the basket and back to his eyes. Genuine. There's no hint of the darkness, that haunted cerulean, that had been there yesterday, as he'd surveyed the glass scattered across her floor. He simply looks… happy. To see her. To spend time with her. The man bought a basket, a picnic, for Christ's sake. He's ridiculous.

She opens her mouth to protest, to say she hadn't thought he'd want to see her so quickly, not after yesterday. But he shakes the basket in his hands and she finds herself laughing, rolling her eyes and letting him in and honestly it's just ridiculous how smitten she is with this man after so little time knowing him.

"You're gonna have to move your coffee table," he tells her, setting the basket on her couch.

"Oh I am, am I?" She murmurs, smiling.

Castle sheds his jacket, wearing a v-neck jumper beneath that stretches across the width of his chest, and then he rolls up his sleeves to the elbow, revealing the play of muscles in his forearms. She looks away, at her coffee table, breathing through the sudden heat that flares through her stomach, sharp and loud. Damn it.

"For the blanket. We have to set out the picnic blanket, Kate," he says, as though it should be obvious.

"Or we could eat on the couch, like normal people," she deadpans.

Castle huffs, like a child, so she laughs, moving and helping him lift the coffee table. It's heavy, and she's wary of there being glass on the floor she'd missed while cleaning up last night, but eventually they place it directly in front of the couch, leaving space for the picnic blanket Castle hastens to lay out. It's stereotypical - red, and checkered, and she can't help but smother a smile when she sees it. And he's seems so content, to just spend time with her, on her apartment floor with all of the sandwiches and snacks he's packed - and it occurs to her that she's never known anyone like him.

Kate sits down on the blanket, legs crossed, and listens to him as he rattles off all of the food he brought with him, teasing her about the surprise he has saved for last. And this is one of those moments, she thinks, one of those moments that she wants to live in again and again.

She wants nothing more than this forever.

"I even brought plates," Castle sings, setting a paper plate in front of her (_Disney_) before pulling out the containers.

She arches an eyebrow. "Are you calling me a princess, Castle?"

His eyebrows furrow briefly, and then she gestures to the plate. He almost looks sheepish. It's cute.

"Leftover from Alexis's last birthday party," he answers, setting a container of grapes on the blanket. "But technically, you do have your own castle."

"I do?" She asks softly, looking down at the tuna salad sandwich she slides onto her plate.

He's quiet for a moment.

"Yeah, Kate," he admits. "You do."

That brings another smile to her lips. It's something he makes her do more than anyone else. Smile.

They don't linger on the moment, instead she watches in content silence as he unloads the rest of the food he brought with him. Tiny sandwiches, fruit, mini pizzas, cheese and crackers, meat skewers, chips. The list goes on, and she can't see how much food she's seeing. He even pulls out a bottle of wine, along with two glasses.

"Really, Castle? Wine in the middle of the day?"

"Pretend we're French."

She lets him pour her a glass anyway, accepting it with a soft thanks and hoping that will count for a lot more than it seems. She really is grateful he's here. She may not be ready for a relationship, but… she thinks she could _want_ to be. With him.

"Did you make all of this?" She asks, popping a grape into her mouth.

He nods. "Oh, yeah. It turns out that I have a lot of free time on my hands when my daughter isn't around."

"Alexis doesn't really seem like the type of child that needs a lot of attention."

"Oh, she's not. It's me who needs hers."

She rolls her eyes. Why is she not surprised?

"Plus, I figured that, you know, what with your job, you don't really have a lot of time to cook," he shrugs, as though it's not big deal, "so there'll be some leftover snacks for when you get home late. But it's not a permanent solution."

_Oh._ Kate feels a blush rise to her cheeks, gnawing on her lower lip. Nobody's ever - thought about her like that before. He's so compassionate, she thinks. He passes it off as nothing, picking up a second cheese sandwich, eating nonchalantly as she stares at him with nothing less than wonder.

He's beautiful.

"Thank you, Rick," she murmurs.

Castle says nothing, and she doesn't push.

* * *

><p>Sitting with him like this is easy. They talk freely, of his ridiculous antics while researching for his books, of some of her more stranger cases that intrigue him, as well as ridiculous childhood memories, or his own experiences while raising his daughter on his own. Alexis is a good child, she's sure, but some of the stories he tells her make her howl with laughter, clutching her stomach. And the glow, the pure warmth he has when he speaks about his daughter is magnificent. She would gladly sit and watch him like this forever.<p>

"You know, you said you had a surprise," she says nonchalantly as they place the containers of leftovers to the side.

"Ooh yes! Dessert."

Castle rifles through the basket, finding whatever it was he was looking for almost instantly. He hesitates, looking over at her cautiously. She raises her eyebrows.

"What, Castle?" She asks impatiently.

"Close your eyes," he instructs. Her eyebrows shoot up higher. "It's a surprise, Kate."

Swallowing nervously, Kate closes her eyes, realising that she trusts him. She really does. She knows that he won't do anything too stupid. It doesn't sounds stupid, either. There's the pop sound of a container being opened, a slight rustling, and then he murmurs for her to open her mouth. He must be leaning in close to her. His breath ghosts across her lips. They part automatically.

The first thing she tastes is chocolate, then, after biting down, something sweet and sharp at the same time. Strawberry. He's feeding her chocolate strawberries.

Kate hums, opening her eyes to find him close. She makes sure her eyes are locked on his when she leans in and takes another bite of the strawberry until he's only left holding the stem. His eyes fall to her lips, and he seems to hesitate; her heart thunders in her chest. Furious. Nervous.

The man made her chocolate strawberries.

Closing her eyes, she erases the gaps between them and presses her lips to his.

Instantly her body reacts to him, blood rushing through her veins and what starts off as soft and cautious suddenly becomes energetic. She pushes up on her knees, curling until her chest presses against his and his hands fall to her waist, hers cupping his cheeks as their lips work in tandem. Oh God. She's kissing Richard Castle. _She's making out with Richard Castle._

Her tongue slips out, slides hotly with his and one of his hands moves away from her waist, sliding across the material of her t-shirt before slipping underneath, finding her bare skin. It's hot and warm and she moans, hands fleshing out all of the solid, broad lines of him. He's tearing her apart with just a kiss.

Kate pulls away, panting heavily, and when she remembers to open her eyes he's already watching her, uncertain and afraid.

She leans in again, kisses him thoroughly and knots her hands in his hair. He groans, arms anchoring around her until they're pressed entirely together, her breasts crushed between them, knees knocking together even as hers ache from the hard floor. But oh, she couldn't stop if she wanted to. And they should stop. Should talk. But she wants nothing more than the feeling of alive for just one more moment.

"Kate," he pants against her lips and she moans again, hands fisting in his hair.

Their lips part with a loud smack that she thinks should be embarrassing, but instead she rests her head against his shoulder, trying to catch her breath. His hands slip from beneath her t-shirt and cradle between her shoulder blades, his own breath shallow against her ear.

"That was amazing," he whispers, gently kissing beneath her ear.

She shudders.

"Yeah," she agrees.

Eventually she remembers to pull away, looking up at him. His hair mussed, lips swollen from her kisses. She bites her own. He looks thoroughly ravished.

"This - I still - " She struggles with the words, can't make the right ones come out.

"You want to go slow. I know," he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I get it."

She smiles, soft and slow. "I don't think I deserve you, Richard Castle."

He laughs, shaking his head and kissing her one last time. Still takes her breath away.

"You are extraordinary, Kate Beckett."

Without giving her time to argue, he lifts from his knees, standing and observing the mess around them. In her haste to kiss him she'd knocked the container of chocolate strawberries over, sending them flying in different directions across her living room floor.

"I guess we have quite a mess to clear up, huh?"

Biting her lip, Kate swiftly moves over to the kitchen, grabbing her dustpan and brush. She holds them up before him.

"How about I watch you clear it up instead?"

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**may flowers**

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for your support.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six:<strong>

* * *

><p>The case she works in January is crazy. She wakes up handcuffed to Lanie after they had been drugged at a crime scene. And as much as she loves Lanie, there's only so long she can be trapped in a room with her listening about her recent problems with Esposito, especially when she's trying to find them a way out. Oddly, as she and her friend clamber on top of the box to escape the tiger, she's thinking about how much of a great story it would be to tell Castle - how much he would enjoy the surreality of it, if he were there with her.<p>

Gates is far less pleased, and she avoids the reprimanding glare of her Captain when they get back to the precinct once they've processed the killers and the Agent leaves. The boys fill her in on the situation of the tiger, Esposito teasing Lanie that it'll be killed, which only makes the medical examiner roll her eyes and walk away.

"What? What'd I do?" Esposito says, turning back to Beckett and Ryan.

She narrows her eyes at him while Ryan laughs and claps him on the back. Before she has a chance to reply, however, she hears a loud, low voice shout _Kate!_ and mid-turn she finds herself crushed against a familiar, broad chest.

She instantly goes stiff, cheeks flaming as she can feel Ryan and Esposito's eyes on her. Confusion clouds her momentarily before she realises it's Castle, and she struggles from his grip. He doesn't seem to take offence, though, as she stares, blanching, at him, only reaches out to push her hair away from her face with one of his large hands.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he says breathlessly.

Instinctively, her cheek leans into his touch, before jerking back when she remembers where she is. Ryan and Esposito are practically giggling.

"Castle, what - what are you doing here?"

"I contacted your colleagues here, Detective Esposito and Ryan, when you weren't answering your phone today," he says, nodding to them, who grin innocently at her. In a lower voice just for her he adds, "Given what happened the last time you didn't answer my calls, I just thought I'd definitely make sure you were okay. But you were missing."

Ryan and Esposito lean closer to try and hear what he's saying, so she shoots them a glare, which makes them scuttle back slightly, still hanging around however. Kate shakes her head, pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a breath before turning to speak to Castle.

"How did you even get their numbers?"

"I did some research. On which precinct you work at. After that it was easy to call," he tells her, as though it should be obvious.

"You _researched_ me?" She hisses, taking another deep breath when he nods eagerly. "Castle, can I talk to you in private, please?"

Kate doesn't leave him much room to argue, instead practically shoves him into the conference room.

"Aw, don't be mean to your _boyfriend,_ Beckett. After all, that's how we knew you were - Ow!"

Ryan pouts, rubbing his upper arm where she'd pinched him. Esposito is roaring with laughter behind him, and she glares at them one last time before following Castle into the conference room, making sure to close all the blinds so that they have total privacy. Castle seems to think this means he's allowed to touch her even more now, because his arms rope around her from behind when the last shutter falls shut, his lips against her neck as he breathes her in. And no, her heart doesn't leap to her throat, but she does whirl out of his grasp.

"What the _Hell_ were you thinking?" She demands, setting her hands on her hips. "I never said it was okay for you to come here, to talk to my colleagues, interrupt me at work!"

His face falls instantly. "I was just worried about you."

"I know, Castle, but you can't just barge in here, and hug me and - "

"Woah, okay, Kate. I didn't barge in anywhere. I rushed here because I heard you were okay after being locked in a room with a _tiger_. Forgive me for being worried."

She scrubs a hand across her face, fingers running over the weary lines and she feels exhaustion climbing the rungs of her spine. Okay. Maybe she's a little tired, a little on edge, and is being a little dramatic. He was just worried, and that's okay - that's… good, she thinks.

"I'm sorry, Castle. I shouldn't…" She shakes her head. "I'm just - my job is dangerous, and things like this happen, and I'm not really used to… I'm not really used to people other than my team being worried about me."

Something about him softens then, and he tentatively moves forward, taking her hand and she lets him run his thumb over her knuckles, forging warmth in his path.

"Well, you'd better get used to it," he tells her, quirking a smile, "because I plan on worrying about you for a long time."

She can't smother her smile, looking up at him shyly. "You do?"

"Yeah, Kate. I do."

This time, because the blinds are closed and she's so tired and she just wants to be held for just a moment to deal with the fact that almost became tiger kibble today, she falls into him when he tugs her into his body. His arms wrap around her loosely this time but she winds hers tightly around his chest and buries her face in his neck. One of his hands rises and he threads his fingers through her hair, making her hum.

"Ryan's getting married next week," she whispers against his skin, "I could do with a plus one."

He pulls away slightly to study her. "Really?"

She shrugs lightly. "You already introduced yourself to them. Why not make it our third date?"

"I would be honoured, Kate," he tells her, so sincerely it makes her grin.

She moves away from his neck, tilts her head so that her lips press against his gently, shyly. His hands settle on the small of her back, perfectly cautious as the room goes silent and her hands flex against the muscles of his shoulders.

And when she moves away, her throat is not- it is absolutely not - clogged with emotion because of this man.

"I'll see you then," he murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I'll see you, Castle," she says softly.

* * *

><p>Nerves cluster in her stomach on their way to the wedding.<p>

He's the perfect gentleman, of course. Pressing a kiss to her cheek and telling her that she looks beautiful when he picks her up, making her smile shyly as she tangles her hands with his to walk from her building to the town car he's hired. It makes her heart falter slightly - this man is rich - but it seems almost nothing to him, to be treating her like this, only holds her door open for her happily (and maybe, _maybe_ his eyes linger on the exposed curve of her ass in this grey dress).

It's not just her and Castle anymore, though, unlike their other dates. On their other dates she can laugh and joke and get to know him in all the ways she wants to and hold his hand or kiss him or whatever without the fear that her colleagues, her friends, will be watching. It's their own small bubble and now it's being permeated.

"You okay?" He asks as the car passes through the city, swirling a thumb over the back of her palm.

Shifting slightly, she rests her cheek against his shoulder for a moment. "Yeah… Yeah, I'm okay."

She hooks her arm through his when they walk into the church, which seems to surprise him, but he only smothers a smile as she peers at him from the corner of her eye.

"Ryan," she greet him, smiling, as they approach Ryan and Esposito standing together.

"Hey, Beckett," he says, reaching forward to accept her hug and kiss on the cheek while Esposito shakes Castle's hand. "Thanks for coming."

She grins, shaking her head. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Castle intervenes then, smoothly sliding a hand around her back that settles on her hip and she lets him, sinking into his side slightly. He holds a hand out for Ryan, who shakes it happily.

"Congratulations, Detective," he says, voice a smooth timber that makes her bite her lip to prevent a smile.

"Thank you. You don't have to call me detective," Ryan replies, grinning.

As he speaks, Jenny appears on the stairs behind him, and Kate feels Castle grinning beside her as she does herself. The dress is beautiful, as is the bride, and God, she is just so glad that Jenny is here and alive and that her phone call lead Kate to the man warming the ancient frost that's curled around her creaking bones.

"Oh, Jenny," she says.

"You look beautiful," Castle tells her.

"Thank you, Rick," she replies, blushing a little as she fiddles with the bouquet in her hands.

The exchange makes Kate look between them curiously, wondering how well they got to know each other in that bank robbery. Had they leaned on each other for support? Had they befriended each other in that moment of fear? Had… Had Castle asked Jenny about her?

"You're marrying a hero, Ryan," Castle tells him, to which Ryan laughs and nods his head.

Esposito and Ryan leave then, and she watches as Castle stares after Ryan wistfully. Of course, she knows, he's done this before. Two previous marriages are what he has to show from his share of churches and - wow, she's never really thought about it; the baggage he has, how it must be hard for him to meet women of substance who will stick around for him and his daughter rather than use him for his fame and his money. Divorce isn't as careless as it seems, she knows that, has seen the ramifications of it in homicide too often for her to always believe in a happy ending. But she'd never thought about the pain, the loneliness, it must've caused for Castle - trying to dedicate his life to someone who only rejected him.

Guiltily, she finds herself roping her arms around him before they walk into the church.

"You okay?" He asks again, hands on the small of her back.

"You're a great man," is all she replies with, avoids looking at the happiness that shines in his eyes and accepts his arm as they walk into the ceremony.

* * *

><p>The ceremony is beautiful, and emotional, and she's sure that she sees tears in Castle's eyes when everyone stands up to clap and celebrate once Ryan and Jenny are officially husband and wife. Hours later though and the evening is littered with stars and she thinks that maybe she might be a<em> little<em> tipsy, because she's dancing slowly with Castle in full view of her colleagues and friends, their hips pressed together and his arms around her waist with hers on his shoulders.

"I think I like this version of you," he says, leaning down so that his lips brush against the shell of her ear when he speaks, "drunk Kate. She's very relaxed."

"You're not too sober yourself," she returns, curling a hand at the nape of his neck to brush his hair softly.

He laughs, pressing a kiss beneath her ear.

"That's true."

Kate hums happily, resting her head on his chest, her heels making them the perfect height for this. Between the other swaying couples on the floor she spies Lanie dancing with Esposito, who is watching her openly, mouthing he's cute at Kate. She smiles, and closes her eyes, content for this moment.

* * *

><p>"Congratulations," she says for the tenth time that night, voice a little slurry from the alcohol now as she says goodbye to Jenny and Ryan, hugging the former. "You look so beautiful."<p>

"Thank you, Kate," Jenny replies, catching Kate's hand and grinning. "You and Rick are so cute together."

Her heart fumbles. "You think so?"

"Of course!"

Bashfully, Kate ducks her head, laughing a little. After one last hug with Ryan she finds Castle again, waiting in the doorway of the reception for her. His arm winds around her waist automatically now, and his face turns up, looking at the inky swirl of dark blue and purple and black of the sky, the moonlight washing in silver over his expression. It's not the first time she's found herself breathless by how beautiful he is.

"The car should be here soon," he says, and then looks down at her in concern when he notices her shivering. "Are you cold?"

"Only a little," she admits.

Kate shakes her head profusely when he moves to take off his jacket, instead leans into him and lets him rope her into a hug, feeling the warmth transcend through her blood and her bones. Oh, this man. It feels too raw and right and real already and maybe that should scare her, maybe it does, but his body and the alcohol is making her chest warm and her limbs loose and she's happy.

She lets herself be happy.

"I had a really good time tonight, Kate. Thank you for inviting me," he says softly, kissing the top of her head.

"Thank you for coming," she responds automatically.

After a moment of silence, he whispers, "I want to write about you."

Maybe it's the alcohol, but she doesn't seize up with shock like she thought she would've. Instead she shifts slightly, her body still pressed against his but now her nose brushes his nose, close and intimate.

"Write about me?"

He shrugs. "I… have this idea of a character. Because of you. And I don't just mean personal writing; I'd like to make it into something more, something I can publish. If that's okay with you."

Oh._ Oh._

Her favourite writer wants to write a book about her.

And he's looking at her like that again.

"I inspire you?" She barely whispers.

Castle pauses, eyes roaming over her face with such reverence. She wonders what he finds there.

"All the time, Kate."

Without hesitance, she leans forward, pressing her lips to his. They come alive beneath her touch almost instantly and she's spurred on by the idea that anyone could walk out and see them like this, see her so happy. So she adds more tongue and draws low groans out of him that make her hips jerk against his, his hands moving down and palming her ass now and she doesn't mind one bit.

He tears his lips away from hers and she finds his neck, paints the canvas with her passion as he gasps.

"Kate, car's here - "

"Come back to my place," she requests, voice low and rich.

He groans when she sucks his earlobe into her mouth, nibbling on it softly.

"You're drunk, Kate, I don't - "

"Not that drunk," she tells him, laughing.

He still seems to hesitate, so she presses herself against him wholly, adding a little more bite to her kiss this time as her fingers trip down the buttons of his shirt and tug at the waistband of his pants.

"I want you, Richard Castle," she murmurs, scraping her teeth against his chin.

He doesn't hesitate for a second longer.

* * *

><p>At first it's fast and rough and everywhere. Her heels end up scattered somewhere in her hallway along with her purse and keys, as he presses her up against the door and makes her gasp when his fingers travel up her thigh.<p>

Somehow she ends up shoving him down onto the bed, pulling his shoes and socks off and playing with his belt, dropping to her knees in front of him. But he's too impatient, yanks her up onto his lap so, while he devastates her with his lips across her neck and the exposed hint of her collarbone, she scrabbles with the buttons of his shirt until he's topless.

"Castle," she gasps, and it's still fast and rough and everywhere as his fingers trail up her legs and she rocks in his lap and warmth curls loud and sharp in her stomach.

But then he pulls her dress over her head and she watches the way his smile falls and his eyes focus on the scar between her breasts.

For a moment, she'd almost forgotten.

"Kate," he whispers between ragged breaths, fingers moving to rest against the scar and she holds back her bated breath.

Nobody else but her has seen it before.

This is the first time she's willingly ever let anyone else touch her scars like this.

His hand sweeps her side, inspecting the surgery scars there, touching her gently as he does. She knows that he's waiting for her to say something, can see in the tense of his jaw and the pain in his eyes that he doesn't want to ask. But if she speaks now, if she opens her mouth, she thinks she might fall apart.

"What happened?" He asks eventually, and he stares in her eyes as he does. Seeing her as more than her scars.

Closing her eyes and curling her hands around his shoulders, she takes a long, deep breath, focusing on keeping the anxiety attack lurking at the back of her mind away. She can do this. She trusts Castle.

Opening her eyes, she admits, "I was shot."

His reaction is immediate, his hands bruising against her skin as he grips her with such force as his mouth falls open.

"May of last year. At my Captain's funeral. The - the sniper was never caught."

"Oh, God," he says in a rush of breath, fingers reaching up to trace around the bullet wound. "But - you're okay now? Physically, you're okay?"

She nods slowly. Physically, yes, she is okay. But the mental ramifications? She doesn't think they'll ever leave her. And that makes this so unfair, because this man has wormed his way into her heart over the past four months and she wants nothing more than to give herself completely to him, but it's impossible. Because she can't even find the pieces that make her complete; she's scattered and lonely and impossibly broken and this man deserves so much more.

Instead of admitting to all of this, however, she simply says, "Yeah. Three months of recovery and - and I was pretty much back to normal. They, um… they tug a little sometimes, but it's bearable."

They burn. It aches. Devastates her.

She doesn't sleep.

She doesn't tell him this.

"You're so extraordinary," he whispers, leaning forward to drop a kiss to her throat, "you - you survived a bullet to the heart, Kate. God, I'm so glad you're here."

His lips move and she holds her breath as they descend from her throat and down her chest, pressing slow, wet kisses to her skin. She's waiting, wondering, and then finally his lips kiss her scar and it _doesn't hurt,_ so her back arches up against his mouth, his hands reaching behind to fumble with the hook of her bra.

But she finally takes a breath and the tears splinter bitter and spiteful in her eyes, a low sob escaping her and he stops instantly, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to look at him.

"Kate? Did I do something wrong?" He asks quickly, thumbs wiping away her tears.

"No, no it's not you," she insists, taking a ragged breath. "I just - nobody's…"

His mouth drops again. "You haven't… with anyone, since?"

"I - I was with this guy, Josh, when it happened. He was a cardiac surgeon, helped fix me but… we weren't right. And since then there's… there's been no-one. Only you."

"Oh, Kate," he murmurs, leaning forward to dust a kiss against her hiccuping lips. "We don't have to do this."

"I…"

"It's okay, Kate. You know that, don't you?" He asks, staring deep into her eyes. "It's okay if you need more time. I'll wait, I promise. You take all the time you need."

At that, she feels herself break even more, moving forward to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his neck. He wraps his arms around her waist and his bare skin on hers still makes dredges of arousal swirl in her stomach, but it's overcast by the grief and sadness that thunders inside of her every night. She wishes she could be more. For herself. For him. So that they could make this work.

"Would you stay the night, Castle?" She whispers, breathing deeply to stop the tears. "Not - for that, but… Just stay?"

He nods against her.

"I'll stay, Kate."

For the most part, they are silent after. He shucks his pants until he's only in his boxers, slipping under the covers with a bashful look on his face and she curls up against his warmth in her underwear, their bare legs tangling. She reaches over him and twines her fingers with the hand not wrapped around her, pressing her cheek against his chest and listening to the reassuring thud of his heart. It's peaceful, and for once she thinks maybe she'll escape the nightmares.

"I want you to meet my daughter," he confesses quietly.

She rests her chin on his chest, frowning. "Castle, you said you only introduce your daughter to women you think it's going well with. And - after what I just told you - surely you know that… well, I'm not exactly a great person to have around a kid."

But he only smiles.

"I think you're more than you realise you are, Kate."

God, his words devastate her. Nodding, she closes her eyes and settles against him again, pressing a kiss to his chest. They say nothing more, and she's grateful - so exhausted. Darkness blankets her vision and bathes her in sleep.

She only has one nightmare and he's there to lull her back to sleep when the shadows dance across her room.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


End file.
